


Bound TwoGether

by JHsgf82



Category: Hunger Games Series - All Media Types, Hunger Games Trilogy - Suzanne Collins, The Hunger Games (Movies)
Genre: Angst, F/M, Fluff, Hijinks & Shenanigans, Parent Trapped Everlark, Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-01
Updated: 2020-10-15
Packaged: 2021-03-01 20:08:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 19,640
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23952820
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JHsgf82/pseuds/JHsgf82
Summary: (AU) Autumn Everdeen and Dawn Mellark meet at an archery and survival skills camp.  Even though their resemblance is uncanny, they've never met before, and they don't exactly like one another.  Through a series of pranks and hijinks, they are forced together, and they bond, only to discover a secret...they're sisters!  But not just sisters, identical twins!  Each desiring to spend time with their other parent, and possibly get the idiots, who so obviously still love one another, back together, Autumn and Dawn come up with a cunning ruse.  Based on "The Parent Trap."
Relationships: Katniss Everdeen/Peeta Mellark
Comments: 19
Kudos: 46





	1. Prologue: The Two

**Author's Note:**

> Based on “The Parent Trap” (1961 version). I made some changes and took some liberties, including Everlarking some things and switching who gets who based on the girls’ personalities. And this takes place more in the present time than when the old version did. I've been working on this fic for a bit and have posted some later snippets on Tumblr, and I'm excited to finally put it out here. I know there have been some other Parent Trap!Everlark fics published recently, but here's my spin. Flamesonarrows, I know you love "The Parent Trap," and even though I know you prefer the 1998 version, I hope you'll enjoy my take on it.
> 
> Cover art by katnissandpeeta125 on Tumblr

“Are you sure you want to go to camp?” Katniss confirmed.

“Mhm.” Autumn, her thirteen-year-old daughter, nodded from the passenger seat.

“But it’s an archery and survival skills camp,” Katniss persisted. Although those were her strong suits, they certainly were not her daughter’s. Be it so, she hoped she didn’t sound too negative in questioning her choice, and it wasn’t that she didn’t think Autumn could do it; it was just that, she hadn’t even been able to convince her to go hunting and camping in the woods of West Virginia where they lived, and now she wanted to travel 130 miles to another state for a summer camp specializing in such activities.

“I know, Mom.” Autumn blinked those bright blue eyes of hers.

“You’re sure? You can still back out.”

“I’m sure. I want to learn. It sounds like fun.”

“Okay.” Katniss knew when she was beaten. Although it had come as a surprise, she was pleased that her daughter was excited about something they could share, because the truth of the matter was, though they got along, they didn’t have much in common.

“Thanks for driving me, by the way.” Autumn ran a hand through her dark, medium-length hair. “You didn’t have to.”

“I wanted to,” Katniss replied, staring out at the road. This would be the farthest and longest Autumn had ever been away from home, and frankly, Katniss was worried she might get homesick. But more than that, Katniss knew she’d miss Autumn a lot; in fact, she didn’t know how she was going to get by without her. Katniss was a solitary person by nature, but ever since she first felt her child stirring inside of her, it was hard to imagine being separated. She could try and occupy herself with work and perhaps do a little hunting, but she didn’t relish the pervasive loneliness she was bound to feel the moment she parted with her daughter. Autumn was everything to her, her whole life. And she just wanted to spend every possible minute of it with her.

They passed the time doing roadtrippy things like playing car games and listening to music, of course. Katniss and Autumn sang along to their favorite songs, or sometimes, Katniss would sing or hum on her own. Autumn would just listen then with a smile on her lips‒she loved when her mother sang, even though it didn’t happen very often. That was something Autumn couldn’t understand‒her mom’s voice was as beautiful as a bird’s, so why wouldn’t she use it?

The two of them also did a lot of talking, mostly about light subjects. But after some time had passed without either of them saying anything, Autumn started thinking… This seemed as good a time as any to ask about something that had been on her mind a lot lately.

The teen fidgeted with the rounded bump produced by the necklace hidden beneath her shirt as she often did when she was nervous. Swallowing thickly, she worked up the courage to broach the subject. “...Mom?”

“Yes?”

“There’s s-something…,” she tried not to let her voice quiver, “something I was wondering about.”

“What’s that?”

“Well, well, frankly…” She picked at the seam of her jeans and took a deep breath. “I was wondering about my...dad.”

At the word, Autumn noticed her mother’s hand twitch, and she could practically see the tension building from there, shooting up her mother’s arms and manifesting in her shoulders. She gripped the steering wheel tighter for a few seconds. But only a few seconds, and then she was once more perfectly cool and collected.

“Your dad? Why would you bring him up?” It was a legitimate question to ask; it wasn’t like they’d had any contact with him. He never wrote; he never called… But then again, that was the agreement. Katniss recalled, however, that he’d sent Autumn something a few years back.

“No reason. I was just,” Autumn shrugged, “you know, wondering...” She paused, seemingly reconsidering the whole thing. “Is it…?” she began tentatively, staring down at her legs, “terribly painful? To talk about Dad?”

“Why should it be?” Katniss answered as emotionlessly as possible. “That was a long time ago.”

“Okay, just...checking.” Autumn briskly rubbed her legs as she turned to stare out her side window.

It was clear Autumn wanted to go on but was afraid to.

A small gust of air passed through Katniss’s lips. “It’s okay,” she said, rotating her neck and putting on a small smile when Autumn met her eyes again. “You can ask about him. What would you like to know?”

Autumn pursed her lips. “Uh, I don’t know, um...he’s in California, right?”

“Last I heard.”

“And he owns some bakeries?”

“Yes, a chain of them. Was there anything else?” Katniss cringed at how she’d just blurted out that last part. Even though she didn’t exactly enjoy talking about her ex-husband, she hadn’t meant for it to come out so blunt. And she didn’t want to deny her daughter information on something she was curious about‒she’d vowed to always be direct with her.

“Yeah...” Autumn’s hand shot straight up to the collar of her shirt, and she started fidgeting with what was underneath while staring at the dash of their compact SUV. “What’s he like?”

Katniss pressed her lips together thoughtfully, and the perfect answer came to her. “He’s a lot like you.”

“Really?” Autumn’s head snapped toward Katniss, her flat yet pert nose crinkling up pleasantly. Her happy expression quickly dissipated, though, into one more uncertain. “Wait, that’s a good thing, right?”

Of course her daughter would want to verify, not because Katniss spent her days bad-mouthing her former lover, but because exes are notoriously rebuked.

Katniss smiled over at her. “I wouldn’t insult you, Autumn,” she assured. “But yes, for the most part, it’s a very good thing to be like your dad.”

Autumn grinned widely at that, which warmed Katniss’s heart but also made her blood run cold. She had to wonder, had she done the right thing? Sometimes it felt like such a huge mistake, but there was no coming back from it now.

“You seem to know a lot about your father already,” Katniss remarked.

“Well, not a lot. I did see a piece of an article on him, though. On his success.”

“Yes, he has been very successful.” At that, Katniss frowned. It wasn’t that she was bitter, not at all; she was glad for him, and her ex had even tried to share his wealth with them, but she’d always preferred a simple life. She could provide for Autumn on her own, and more than that, her pride wouldn’t allow her to feel as though she owed him anything.

“What do you think Dad’s up to these days?”

“That Casanova?” Katniss scoffed. “Probably gallivanting every night with a different woman…” She didn’t know what had possessed her to say that. She didn’t really mean it; although, for all she knew, he could be like that now. Money changes people.

Gauging by Autumn’s face, she was genuinely upset over the comment, and Katniss felt awful. Autumn’s next words came as a kick to the stomach. “Is that why you left him, Mom? Because he cheated on you?”

Katniss’s lips barely parted, and she shook her head. “No,” she answered softly. No, she refused to be one of those single mothers who condemns the father of her child just because they’re no longer together. “No,” she repeated more firmly, for even as much as it still hurt‒he could have resisted more; he could have fought harder; he could have stuck around‒she wouldn’t speak ill of Autumn’s father in front of her. And truthfully, there weren’t many negative things she could come up with. “To be honest…,” a soft sigh escaped her lips, “your dad was always very loyal.”

Autumn nodded, appearing relieved by this piece of information but quite possibly more confused than before. She turned to look out her window again, and Katniss played with the radio, just for something to do.

Her daughter’s questions had Katniss thinking back, trying to recall why exactly she had left Peeta. It was so long ago, and it felt so hazy…

It was ridiculous to think she couldn’t even remember why she had divorced the man she once loved so much, but if she was being completely honest, she didn’t. It felt like a lot of small things, the only memories she was able to summon being of stupid arguments. They were fighting a lot back then, she recalled, but not many of the fights held much weight. And she definitely remembered the makeups being really great.

Another vivid memory was of Peeta fighting her tooth-and-nail over giving up his parental rights. It was the first time she’d ever seen him furious. Even after she’d kicked him out of the house, he refused to leave, said he’d never abandon his baby girls, and for a while, he slept in the shed he’d turned into his art studio. But eventually, he gave in to reason after Katniss insisted for the umpteenth time that it was over between them.

Peeta wasn’t a bad father by any means; in fact, between the two of them, he was probably the one who deserved a child more. And Katniss wasn’t heartless, so she’d agreed to share the girls. And after much deliberation, they made a very difficult, rather unconventional choice‒to split them up and each take one. And they promised never to tell their daughters about their twin sister. It seemed like the best thing to do at the time, logical, but Katniss could honestly say there were hundreds, if not thousands of times over the years when she’d seriously questioned that decision.

Autumn was looking at Katniss now with sympathy and worry in her big, blue eyes. She always wore her heart on her sleeve, just like her father. Katniss had meant it when she told Autumn she was a lot like Peeta. She was sweet as pie, friendly to everyone she met, and she had a way with words. Oh, and she was artistic. Even as a small child working with finger paints, she was creating breathtaking works of art. But then again, every mother thinks her child’s artwork is a masterpiece. As Autumn grew older, though, Katniss could appreciate her talent more objectively; she’d even placed in some art festivals. There would be no denying Peeta’s paternity when it came to Autumn. And Peeta would be so proud of her. It was a shame she couldn’t tell him.

After that, Autumn and Katniss ceased talk of heavy topics and just enjoyed the drive again. It seemed like it would be long but passed by in a flash as things always do when you don’t want them to come to an end. And Katniss didn’t‒she was going to miss Autumn more than she could express with words...

***  
Peeta was driving his orange Jaguar convertible along Highway 68. His daughter, Dawn, had teased him about the purchase, joking that it was some kind of midlife crisis thing, but he had the money‒and it wasn’t like it was a Rolls or Aston Martin (He didn’t think he was James Bond; although, he did have a pair of Aviators that looked remarkably like his), nor was he going around in a limo. A lot of people in California drove convertibles, at least in their area, and besides, she couldn’t deny she loved it, too‒maybe not the color. Speaking of his pride and joy‒his child, not his car‒Peeta was currently taking her to the airport. Dawn was leaving Monterey and was headed off to the east for a summer camp.

The ride had been pleasant, the traffic surprisingly mild and the cool breeze blowing nicely through his hair. It could get rather stuffy out here, not at all like where he originally came from, and thus, he always slept with the windows open and kept the top down on his car. Even if Dawn said it wrecked his thick, curly hair, giving it more the look of a little boy’s than a man’s.

Life was good out here in California, and Peeta was a regular golden boy, his an honest to goodness success story: Humble baker’s boy takes over his father’s business and turns entrepreneur. Peeta now owned a chain of bakeries, and due to an overzealous business manager and franchising, he’d ended up on the west coast. But there was another reason, a much more compelling one (with silver eyes) that had driven Peeta Mellark from Appalachia to Monterey Bay. The truth was, after his unpleasant divorce, Peeta had wanted, no, needed, a fresh start, and that meant being as far away as possible from his past. But even with an entire country between them for over a decade, she still crossed his mind sometimes. Would he ever be free of her? And did he want to be?

“So, archery camp, huh?” Peeta needed to get his mind off his ex-wife.

“Yeah,” Dawn said proudly.

“I don’t get it. What’s a camp going to teach you that you don’t already know? You’re the best shot I’ve ever seen.” Well, except for one other, thought Peeta. Damn, he really needed to stop thinking about her...

“There’s other stuff, too, Dad, like wilderness survival skills, building fires, identifying plants.” The straight line that usually was her mouth turned up a little on each end; she was so excited about this. “You’ll go camping with me sometime, won’t you, Dad?”

“Sure,” Peeta replied. “But I’m pretty clueless about it. You know I’m more at home in a kitchen than a forest.”

“I’ll teach you.”

“And you’ll protect me out there, right,” Peeta said in that sarcastic manner of his.

Dawn rolled her eyes. “Oh, Dad.” She was used to his offbeat sense of humor by now and usually ignored it.

Peeta grinned. “So, when you come back you’re going to be an even more skilled markswoman, and what,” he continued teasing his daughter, though he was quite proud of her, “you’ll be able to shoot an apple off my head or something?” He reached over to poke her in the side, and she wriggled away.

“I might.” Dawn righted herself and turned in her seat, jabbing a finger at him. “Depends.”

“On what?”

“On if you behave yourself while I’m gone.”

Her father’s blue eyes twinkled with mischief, and Dawn narrowed hers skeptically. “You will, won’t you, Dad?”

“You know me.” He winked at her.

“That’s why I ask.”

Peeta chuckled. He loved their banter. They were, honestly, more like best friends than father and daughter. With one hand on the wheel, he used his other to make the sign for crossing his heart.

“Okay, good.”

“But, I’m very curious. What kind of trouble do you foresee me getting into?” he asked. She shrugged. “You think I’ll bake a hundred cupcakes and proceed to eat them all at one time.”

Dawn stifled a laugh. “Maybe.”

“I won’t do that. I wouldn’t be able to move.” He caught Dawn fighting her widening grin. “But I will be depressed, you know...”

Again, Dawn rolled her eyes. “You’ll be fine.” She then leaned over and nudged him lightly with her elbow. “So, what will you do while I’m gone?”

“Oh, probably cry myself to sleep every night,” Peeta remarked dryly.

“Har-dee-har-har.”

They returned to looking out the front of the car and drove along in companionable silence.

“You know what I think I’ll miss most when you’re gone?” Peeta began after some time had passed.

“What?”

Moments like these. But he couldn’t resist teasing her, and he reached out to gently pinch her cheek. “Your scowl.”

“Dad!” Dawn promptly shoved her dad’s hand away. He was laughing, now, and she was, of course, scowling.

“Yes, that’s the one!” He pointed at her face and laughed even harder.

Dawn folded her arms tightly over her chest. “Just watch the road, Dad.”

The silence returned, aside from the sound of the wind whipping by, and Dawn messed with her phone. Eventually, Peeta turned on the radio. He rifled through the pre-programmed buttons on the car’s satellite radio until he landed on a 90s/2000s pop station, and the familiar intro notes of Maroon 5’s “Sugar” burst forth from the Jag’s impressive sound system.

Like an unstoppable force, Peeta started humming along and bobbing his head, gradually building up to belting out the chorus.

“Oh, my god. Seriously, Dad?” Dawn groaned.

“What? This song’s good. Is it my voice?”

Shaking her head, Dawn smirked. “Let’s just say you can’t hit the high notes.”

“Nope. Can’t even touch em’. But it’s fun to try, anyway..”

Dawn refused to comment, although she did make a mental note to jump out of the car if N’Sync or Justin Timberlake came on. Her dad really got into those for some strange reason.

They arrived at Monterey Regional Airport in too short a time for Peeta’s liking; he’d wished Dawn had been flying out of San Jose so he could have soaked up more time with her, but alas, here they were. Despite her protests, which he could tell were halfhearted, he parked and helped her with her bags and accompanied her through ticketing.

“Don’t stand outside of security and watch me leave like a little puppy, Dad,” Dawn said, gripping the strap of her backpack and glancing away.

“Why? Are you embarrassed of me?” Peeta could tell Dawn was getting a little emotional but didn’t want to show it. Oh, who did that remind him of…?

“A little,” she muttered, staring down at her feet. She didn’t really mean it, but he should be used to her caustic remarks by now.

Dawn’s eyes drifted up to her dad’s face, and his expression was surprisingly serious. She couldn’t help thinking that maybe she’d hurt his feelings. But how could that be? He couldn’t possibly think she meant it, could he? He should know better than that; she never meant things like that when she said them. Granted, he did act kind of goofy now and again, but she wouldn’t say she was ‘embarrassed’ by him. In fact, he was pretty much the coolest dad she could imagine having, as far as dads go.

It was time to go, and Dawn was hesitating. As for her dad, he hadn’t said anything further or made any kind of move. He was just...waiting. Why wasn’t he saying anything or trying to give her a hug? She supposed he was letting her make the first move, if she wanted to.

And she did want to. She wanted a good, long hug badly, but she didn’t want to ask for it; she didn’t want to seem like a baby. And she definitely didn’t want him or anyone else seeing the tears brimming at her eyes. She was a teenager now, for crying out loud!

Keeping her eyes low, she tried to stall by asking him once more what he planned to do over the summer while she was away, which translated into‒Are you going to miss me? She knew he would, but she wanted him to say it.

Peeta was instantly aware of his daughter’s game, and so, he’d play along. He’d obviously have to coax her, even trick her a little into expressing her true feelings. So like her mother…

“Honestly, I’ll probably be living it up,” he said. “A free man with no responsibilities.”

He eyed her reaction carefully, but Dawn just rolled her eyes and asked, “What about the bakeries?”

Maybe she wasn’t going to miss him…

“Oh, you know, those practically run themselves these days,” he went on. “I’m lucky to have the help I do. They don’t even seem to need me there anymore.”

“But you love it there,” Dawn stated rather than questioned.

“I do.” Peeta really missed baking sometimes; he didn’t do it nearly as often these days. He glanced over to see his daughter watching him, and an impish grin spread across his lips. Time to go in for the kill… “Still,” he shoved his hands into his pockets and raised his eyes to the airport ceiling, “it’ll be nice having nothing I have to do. And of course, not having another mouth to feed.”

He heard Dawn scoff. “Like I’m a helpless baby bird.”

Gradually, he met her eyes, and he caught the flash of fire in them. That did it.

Crossing her arms tightly, Dawn spun around and turned her back on him. “Well, if that’s the way you feel, maybe I won’t come back...”

Peeta laughed; he knew it’d only make her madder, but he couldn’t help it. Okay, so maybe this had gone on long enough, and he should just give in.

“Dawn…” Peeta began as she clutched her backpack straps and started to walk off on him.

“Ohh-ho ho, now, sweetheart…” She picked up her pace, and he pursued. “I was just joking, you know...”

She kept walking, but he easily caught up, coming from behind and gripping her arms. She stopped, and he was left staring at the back of her braided head. “Sweetheart, look at me.”

. . .

They say the mind plays tricks sometimes, and Peeta’s did just then because suddenly, Dawn had morphed into a woman of similar build and very similar temperament‒and he was no longer talking to her, but her mother…

“Hey, look at me. Look a‒” He moved to turn her around, and that’s when the flashback hit like a tidal wave.

“Peeta! Peeta!”

He could hear her voice. He could see the image of her clearly, that dark, tousled hair, which clung to her shoulders for a change, and those stormy eyes he’d gotten lost in so many times. He could feel her gripping his knuckles to the point of pain, then taking his face roughly yet somehow tenderly between her hands.

“Look at me, LOOK at me!” she was demanding.

And in a flash, it all came crashing back to him. Her begging him to stay with her at a time when he felt utterly useless, when it felt like everything was all over. He’d wanted to just slip away quietly, but she wouldn’t let him. No, her will would not be denied. “Stay with me,” she’d demanded once more, and then she’d kissed him full on the mouth, hard and persistent. And after she’d pulled back and was staring so desperately into his face, the only response he could formulate was, “Always.”

Sometimes Peeta couldn’t believe that after all they’d been through it had ended just like that. He wondered if she still thought of him… No, probably not. She’d made it perfectly clear long ago that she no longer wanted or needed him. And there had been zero contact in years. He’d be an idiot to think she hadn’t moved on and found someone new by now. But sometimes, he just wanted to...

. . .

“Dad, Dad! Are you okay?” When he came out of...whatever it was, Dawn had a hold of him and was saying his name over and over, begging that he speak to her. Peeta whipped his head from side to side, noticing the crowd that had gathered.

“I’m fine,” he said, waving off the crowd. Then, he bent and leaned in, looking into Dawn’s teary eyes. “I’m fine, sweetheart, really.”

“B-but, you...you were...convulsing,” Dawn cried. “I thought you were having an attack or a seizure!” She looked positively terrified; a tear had even streaked down her cheek.

“No, I wasn’t. I‒” At least, he didn’t think so. Peeta didn’t quite know how to explain what had just happened. It wasn’t exactly an episode but just an extremely realistic memory… Feeling slightly embarrassed it’d happened in public but way more regretful about making his daughter worry over nothing, he slid a thumb down her cheek, wiping away the tear stain. “I’m fine,” he repeated.

She didn’t seem to believe him and was still looking incredibly concerned. “Is your leg hurting you? Maybe I shouldn’t go…”

“No.” He shook his head. As much as he wanted her to stay, he didn’t need her to, and he didn’t want to spoil her time. “You should go.”

“Oh. O-kay…”

“This was just a fluke.”

“Well, don’t drive right away. Make sure…”

“I will.” He nodded and reached out to hug her, but before he could, she’d thrown her arms around his neck.

“I’ll miss you, Dad,” she whispered.

Peeta could barely believe it. His teenage daughter, who hated showing any sign of weakness or emotion was openly saying she’d miss him. It wasn’t like Dawn never said things like that or showed him any kind of affection, but it just didn’t happen often. Maybe it was the ‘episode’ or maybe she’d finally realized she wouldn’t be seeing him for three months. Damn, he’d reminded himself now. He wrapped one arm around her waist, and the other made its way into her hair; he wrapped it around her braid, sliding all the way down.

When he pulled back to look at her, another couple of tears had fallen. He reached out to stroke her cheek with the back of his hand and wiped them away. “Oh come on, you don’t need me anymore.” It wasn’t meant to be self-deprecating, and whether it was the flashback that triggered him to say it or his actual fear that someday she would no longer need him, he didn’t know. But it was legitimate. Someday, his strong and independent daughter would go off on her own, conquer the world, probably find a guy and get married, perhaps move away and forget all about him. The latter two were Peeta’s biggest fears, aside from her being physically hurt or in danger.

Dawn shook her head at him and gave him a look. He knew that look; it was the same one her mother always gave him when she thought he was being stupid.

“I do, Dad,” she said. “I need you.”

The brightness of Peeta’s smile could probably have lit an entire city, and he captured her in another hug. “I’ll miss you, snickerdoodle...”

At that, Dawn tore away. “Daaad,” she whined like a four-year-old upon hearing the old childhood nickname, which he occasionally pulled out from storage. He’d started calling her that when she was a toddler, after he’d announced that he’d baked a batch of the cinnamon-sugary cookies and she’d laughed hysterically at the word.

He laughed and pulled her back in. “Sorry.”

She made a noise in her throat and buried her face in his shoulder. After a moment, he heard her mumble against him. “You’ll be okay, right?”

“Of course,” he said, holding the back of her head.

They finally separated, knowing fully well they’d given the airport quite a show but not really caring. They said their final goodbyes then, and Dawn even gifted him with one of her rare, beautiful smiles.

“You know, you should really smile more often. Improves your looks a lot,” Peeta quipped.

“Hey-!” Dawn started to get mad, and Peeta feared he was leaving things on a bad note, but thankfully, she let it slide. She gave him another quick hug‒this was probably the most she’d hugged him in six month’s time‒and she turned to leave.

“I’ll bake cheese buns for you when you come home!” Peeta called out as she handed off her boarding pass and ID. This earned some strange and amused looks from the people surrounding them, but honestly, hadn't these people gotten over their weirdness by now? Dawn simply turned and smiled.

“Can’t wait!” she shouted back, and then she disappeared in a sea of passengers.


	2. Just Lookalikes Part I

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I'm very sorry for the ultra-long delay. I hope some of you are still interested in reading. Just so you know, there’s very little Katniss this chapter and no Peeta. And they won’t appear for about two more chapters, but I hope you’ll still enjoy the girls’ perspectives without them. After that, there’ll be a lot of K and P. There are, however, a TON of nods to canon in this chapter, and will be more in the chapters to come. Let’s see if you can find them!

_Autumn Everdeen_

Autumn arrived at the archery and wilderness survival skills camp that she’d so carefully chosen‒Camp Mockingjay, it was called. She’d done her research on the place before arrival because she liked to be prepared, a skill which her mother had taught her. Speaking of her mom, she could tell she was feeling sad. They both were, she supposed. This would, after all, be the longest period of time she’d been away from home. She was going to miss Mom and Aunt Prim and even Great-Uncle Haymitch so much.

They pulled up to the camp, and Autumn took a look around through the window of the car. Small wooden cabins with forest green roofs dotted the terrain, which was a lush forest rife with tall trees‒pine and oak, mainly, she figured‒that must have been there for ages. Nothing Autumn was unfamiliar with, having grown up in West Virginia, but it was still different. It was especially pretty here, and she wondered if maybe she should have taken Mom up on some of those offers to trek off into the woods. Even if it wasn’t her thing, she was trying. And at the very least, it would be nice to paint such a setting.

Autumn’s mom got out of the car and unloaded her things. Then she gave her a long hug. “Don’t be lonely,” Autumn whispered mid-hug.

“I won’t,” her mom replied, pulling back and resting her hands on her shoulders. “Aunt Prim will keep me company.”

“And Uncle Haymitch?”

Katniss made a face, which caused Autumn to giggle. “I’m sure he’ll get on my nerves same as always, no more, no less.”

“Yeah, I’m sure. Well…” Autumn glanced around, taking note of the big welcome banner hanging from two large oaks and the wooden signposts, indicating directions. One read ‘Camper registration’ and had two arrows pointing in different directions, designating the sign-in tables for new campers and returning campers. “I think I go that way,” she pointed at the ‘New Camper’ table.

“Okay. Anything else you need?” her mother asked. Autumn assumed she didn’t want to hover or ask to walk over with her, but she could tell she wasn’t quite ready to say goodbye yet.

“No. I’m good, Mom.” They locked eyes. “Guess this is it…,” she hesitated.

“Yeah. Have fun.”

“I will.” _I hope_. Autumn leaned in to peck her mom’s cheek. “I love you.”

“I love you, too.” Katniss glanced down at Autumn’s slightly oversize shirt poking out from her shorts. “Hey, don’t forget to tuck in your tail, baby duck,” she said, almost sounding choked up unless Autumn was imagining it.

The teen smiled at the old, affectionate nickname, which had come from both her mom and Aunt Prim. Aunt Prim was Little Duck, and she was Baby Duck or Duckling.

“Thanks, Mom,” she said, fixing her shirt. She then gave her one last goodbye and threw up a static wave as she turned to leave.

A few steps in, Autumn glanced back over her shoulder, but only once before forging on ahead. Dipping her hand into her shirt, Autumn touched her special necklace and attempted to quell the tears while she trudged on. She could feel that her mom was still there, watching over her almost protectively, but she wouldn’t look back again; that would only make things worse for both of them. She assumed her mom would inconspicuously wait until she’d checked in and was all good before leaving, and that was actually a comfort.

Autumn stepped up to the registration table when it was her turn. She was being checked in by a Miss Trinket, the camp coordinator, who didn’t look like she belonged there at all. She didn’t like to judge a person based on their appearance, but the way this woman was dressed...her makeup, her hair, which was most likely a wig...the colors, the lavishness, all of it screamed loudly for attention. To be honest, she looked out of place in the woods, and as though she would be anywhere but in a Vegas lounge act. Not that Autumn had ever been to one of those, but she’d heard of them. On top of the attire, the shrill voice and affected accent she was greeted with screamed of some high-society type from a big city, perhaps in the northeast.

Miss Trinket gave her an informational packet, included in which was a map, daily schedule, and name tag as well as two white t-shirts. She unfolded one and held it up to take a look. On the front was printed the Camp Mockingjay logo‒a golden bird inside a golden circle with an arrow in its beak. The emblem was surrounded by pine trees, and below were the letters C MJ. She turned it around. On the back was a slogan: ‘Shoot Straight.’ Kind of generic, but oh well.

“Alright, then, dear, you’ll be staying in Cabin 4,” Miss Trinket said. “Jiibik.” A glance at the list of cabins in the packet told Autumn the name was Ojibwe (Chippewa) for dandelion. Why Chippewa? She wasn’t sure, because that tribe came from an entirely different part of the country‒the northern Midwestern states as well as Canada. Autumn knew a little bit about the vast Native American history, considering she had a great-grandmother who was Cherokee, but she mainly knew some small details about her great-grandma’s specific tribe.

After checking her in, Miss Trinket instructed Autumn on where she could go to change into her camp t-shirt. She thanked her and did so, remembering at the very end to tuck in that tail of hers. It was a constant problem, considering her small body type. For the final touch, she peeled away the sticky strip from her nametag and attached it to her shirt on the left-hand side. She smoothed it down and scanned the area, deciding to take a little walk before orientation. She wouldn’t stray too far, but she did mentally note a focal point as her mother had taught her, so she wouldn’t get lost. Although, it was kind of hard to with that huge sign.

* * *

After registration ended, the campers were directed to gather for orientation. They were told to take their seats on stools, which were basically smoothed out tree stumps, around a big wooden platform with a sign indicating it was the stage. The counselors were all lined up on stage in their Camp Mockingjay t-shirts and matching khaki shorts, waiting to introduce themselves. Miss Trinket led the show, speaking into a microphone, though her voice needed no amplification, saying that each counselor would give a short speech about their role and intentions for this summer.

First up was Counselor Mason, a short, spiky-haired brunette, who frankly, scared Autumn a little bit. She seemed intense with that aggressive look in her wide-set brown eyes and with the way she wielded a walking stick like a deadly weapon. She looked ready to bite like some rabid mutt. Autumn decided it best not to get on her bad side.

The counselor next to Counselor Mason wasn’t nearly as intimidating; she was short and had red hair and amber eyes. This counselor, who was apparently a whiz at identifying plants, went by the name Foxface. It was kind of a funny name, but it seemed fitting, for she had similar features to the small, wiley animal, and it looked like she could, at any moment, hightail it out of there and hide in a bush, never to be found unless she wanted to be.

Next to Foxface was a hulking man, who dwarfed the previous two women like one of those redwood trees in California. His name was Gloss. Another odd name, but he too seemed to exemplify it. This was proof positive by the whisperings of the girls around Autumn. They apparently thought he was a giant hunk.

Autumn couldn’t deny Gloss was good-looking, classically beautiful, even, with his caramel hair, strong jaw, and impressive build, but she wasn’t crushing on him like some of the others. Maybe it was because she’d never regarded guys much. Maybe she was a late bloomer, in that arena, at least. She didn’t mind it, herself, not caring about guys; she just hoped the other girls wouldn’t give her a hard time about it. Physical maturity-wise, at least she’d gotten her boobs last year‒they were small but good enough for her. What did it really matter what size they were, anyway? She actually preferred them the way they were.

Her mind shifted back to Counselor Gloss, who, looks aside, seemed nice enough. He even said something about how they were all family now. Hopefully, he meant that. It’d be nice to have a friendly adult around here. Not that she’d necessarily go to Counselor Gloss with her troubles, mainly because he was a little intimidating, for some reason. Autumn heaved a sigh. Sometimes she wished she could be braver, fearless and unflappable like her mom. Of course, her mom always praised her courage when she got up to make speeches as she did, said that she could never do it, and Autumn felt pride that her mother admired her for that.

Back to the counselors, beside Gloss stood his twin sister, Cashmere, who was equally stunning. She was the type who looked like she could be a model slash champion athlete, perhaps an Olympic swimmer or softball or volleyball player. She was strong-looking and beautiful, smiling widely up there, showing off her perfectly straight, white teeth.

And then there was Counselor Delly, who wanted to be called Miss Delly. She was blonde and bubbly and talked a little like she’d grown up in the deep south. She promised she’d be there for anyone who needed to come and talk to her, about anything. That was nice, thought Autumn. Even though Miss Delly acted like she could host a children’s show dressed in a magical fairy or animal costume, she was at least nice and empathetic. Autumn would take that over the opposite any day.

Once the general introductions were done, Miss Trinket went back around to each counselor and had them make a little speech. It seemed kind of unnecessary to Autumn‒couldn’t they have just done that the first time around? But apparently, there was a proper protocol to be followed. Miss Trinket was all about that, and manners.

Counselor Mason, who was said to be the reigning tree expert, began. And she was exactly what Autumn had expected. Her presentation was short, but not at all sweet, during which she gruffly explained that she would be teaching survival skills and tree-climbing techniques as well as demonstrating how to build a tree stand for hunting and observation purposes.

Miss Trinket chimed in then, informing the crowd that the hunting portion would be optional. As she said it, she kind of cringed at the term ‘hunting’ as if she found it detestable, and Autumn swore Counselor Mason’s already seemingly permanent scowl deepened. On the other hand, there was no mistaking the way she rolled her eyes at the back of Miss Trinket’s poofy head. At the end of her talk, Mason asked for questions, clearly under protest because she seemed to be warning the campers with her eyes against actually asking any. Autumn couldn’t help but shiver a little when one camper raised his hand and asked if they could build a cool treehouse. Counselor Mason looked like she might behead him, snapping back with a sharp ‘no.’

Too bad. That would’ve been kind of cool.

Counselor Gloss, ‘the hot one,’ went next. He made a brief presentation about safety and informed everyone that he’d be teaching swimming (beginner and refresher courses) and canoeing down at the lake as well as organizing some competitive games.

After him, Counselor Foxface took her turn. She was the plant girl and apparently had an incredible memory. She would be teaching a class on identifying plants. “I’m going to teach you many things this summer about plants and their uses,” she said, “but I must say one thing first off. Even if you think you know what it is, don’t just go around picking any berries you see and popping them in your mouth. Same goes with plants.”

And then she hooked them all with this warning: “It could lead to a night of violent vomiting or even your death.”

The crowd fell silent.

From there on, Foxface’s speech was pretty straightforward. She lastly made a couple of general closing remarks before quietly thanking them for their attention and folding her hands in front of her.

Perky Miss Delly’s speech was the last and would definitely be the longest.

Autumn was trying to tune in while Miss Delly happily chattered away about her plans for this summer, but she found her mind and her eyes wandering. Half-listening, she surveyed the group of campers gathered around her, hoping to determine who appeared friendly and inviting. She had a knack for feeling a person out, even when only given small details. She was also good at speaking to people‒Mom always said she had a way with words, which she’d reluctantly and with restrained affection admitted was a trait of her dad’s.

Her blue eyes continued to scan the group, finally settling on one girl. But not just any girl. This girl, bizarrely, looked exactly like her.

What?

Was she seeing things? Did she need to get her eyes checked?

The girl had noticed her, too, and was now staring back‒with a set of blue eyes of her own‒undoubtedly bewildered as she was. Unconsciously, Autumn nervous-fidgeted with the smooth, tiny lump hanging from the chain hidden inside her shirt. She mouthed ‘hi’ to the girl, to be polite and as a means of apologizing for gaping like a fish out of water, but her lookalike only flipped her braid over her other shoulder and turned away to focus on Miss Delly.

 _Okay, guess she’s not gonna be a kindred spirit_ , thought Autumn. Nevertheless, she was bound and determined to address the mystery of their uncanny resemblance.

It was all she could think about through the rest of orientation. That is until they began assigning cabin leaders; Autumn quickly tuned in for that. The Cabin Leader would be the one to take care of any of their special needs and answer questions.

It didn’t really matter to Autumn which one she got; they all seemed okay, save for one…and she just kept muttering under her breath, “Please not Mason; please not Mason…”

“For Cabin 4, Counselor Mason.”

Autumn squeezed her eyes shut. Apparently, the odds were not in her favor today.

* * *

After orientation, Miss Trinket basically shooed them off, instructing them to get settled in and report to the dining hall promptly at noon for lunch. Addressing the new campers, she informed them that they could find their way using the map or ask one of the veteran campers or find their cabin leader, all of whom would be around, for directions.

Fixated as she was now, Autumn wanted to use the time to look for her clone, but it seemed she’d disappeared. So, she decided to find her cabinmates instead. She’d paid attention when Cabin 4 was called and taken note of what the other three looked like, so she could find them easily later. She’d also seen them in the crowd, conveniently all hanging out together. She’d meant to keep her eye on them; that is, until she got distracted by her carbon copy.

Fortunately, it didn’t take long to locate her cabinmates, who were all gathered together outside the main office building.

She approached them, throwing up a static wave. “Hi, I’m Autumn Everdeen,” she said, despite the fact that it said so on her name tag. She then stuck out her hand for whichever wanted to take it. A girl with long, thick umber hair, worn down and splayed across her shoulders, hazel eyes, and golden beige skin did.

“I’m Brianna,” she said, gripping Autumn’s hand tightly. “This is Astrid,” she pointed to a blonde, curly-haired girl with green eyes, fair skin, and light freckles dotting her nose. “And this is Shauna.” Shauna had light brown skin, brown eyes, and jet black hair, worn in a ponytail.

“Wait, did you say Evergreen?” asked Brianna.

“No, Ever-D-een,” Autumn corrected. People always got her name wrong.

“Oh, sorry,” Brianna replied. “Interesting name.”

Autumn shrugged, wondering what theirs were. “Yeah, I guess. I didn’t pick it.”

Brianna snorted. “You’re funny, Everdeen.” Again, Autumn shrugged.

“So, first year?” Shauna spoke up.

“Yes. And you guys have all been here before, huh?”

“Uh huh.” Astrid nodded.

“Everdeen’s sharp,” Brianna commented with a smirk.

“For the last three years,” Astrid explained. “You might say we own this place now.” She haughtily flipped a blonde curl over her shoulder. “Well, that is...” Her lips twisted as she shot Brianna and Shauna a sideways glance. “Practically.”

Not knowing what to make of that, Autumn simply pressed her lips together. “Well, it’ll be good to have people around who know the lay of the land. Do you like it here? Did you want to come back?”

Those were reasonable questions, considering Autumn had known some kids who were ‘forced’ to go to camp. She, however, was lucky enough to not have one of those parents who assumed their kids needed more socialization or simply wanted to unload them for part of the summer. She’d actually chosen this.

She hoped she wouldn’t regret it.

At least she was making friends…

But then again, Autumn had always been good at making friends. Connecting with people, knowing what to say and how and when to listen were strong suits of hers. Because of this, she could have had a lot of friends, but she preferred the company of a few close ones to many. She supposed she was... _selective_ when it came to making friends, cautious even.

“Yeah, it’s great here,” Brianna answered for the group. It had taken Autumn about five seconds to figure out she was their ‘leader,’ so to speak. “But there are some things you should know,” Brianna went on.

Autumn listened in.

“We’ll tell you all about it while we give you the grand tour.” Brianna then hooked her arm through Autumn’s and led her off, the other two following obediently behind like puppies.

True to her word, with the aid of Shauna and Astrid, who occasionally gave their input, Brianna gave Autumn the grand tour. They took her by the lake, the dining hall, around all the cabins, pointing out those they knew who lived there, making some introductions, and also telling her who she should avoid.

This place seemed very cliquey. Well, Autumn supposed she’d have to make do.

It _was_ helpful that the group pointed out where the poison ivy and oak grew. She recognized it as soon as they did, though, for her mom had shown her before.

Of the trio, Shauna seemed like the nicest one, and all throughout the tour, she kept asking Autumn questions about herself, such as who her favorite artist was‒Shauna’s was Taylor Swift‒did she have any pets?‒Shauna had two cats and a hamster‒and the like.

Meanwhile, Astrid had mainly been complaining about how smartphones weren’t allowed here.

“They changed that rule a year ago, and you’re still going on about it?” Brianna smirked.

“Yeah, well, they shouldn’t have! I’m still not used to it. What are they thinking? It’s not like we’re gonna be messaging non-stop or on social media instead of doing their little activities,” she whined.

“The wifi sucks here, anyway,” Shauna chimed in.

“Yeah, but I could be playing my offline games.”

“Maybe they want us to focus on their activities rather than games and apps,” Autumn commented.

“Touché, Everdeen,” Brianna said. And Shauna smiled. “Finally, someone shut her up about it.”

“Hey!” Astrid scowled at her friend but quickly shrugged it off. “Everdeen’s a little sassy,” Autumn was glad she didn’t seem angered by her comment.

“Good, that’ll come in handy,” Brianna said. “You’ll need it to survive here.”

What did that mean?

“Survive?” Autumn questioned, thoroughly confused. They acted like this summer was going to be some sort of death match where they’d be tossed into an arena and forced to live by their strengths and wits and only one came out alive...

“Just that...let’s just say not everyone here is as friendly as we are,” Brianna told her.

“And there is some competition,” Shauna added.

“Over what?” asked Autumn.

Astrid answered. “Everything.”

“But don’t worry,” Brianna said, moving closer. “You’ll do fine. And we’ll help you.” The three surrounded her, grinning like Cheshire cats.

What could Autumn do but nod and thank them for their consideration?

They were in sight of Cabin 2, Binesi–Autumn would have to check the pamphlet again, but she’d thought it meant bird or large bird or something–when Brianna came to a sharp halt. Quickly, she dragged Autumn into a nearby bush, the others joining.

“Wh-?” Autumn squeaked as she was hauled off. “Wha-what are you doing?”

“Shhh, just get down,” Brianna gritted out. Autumn complied.  
  
Crouched in a bush with leaves in her hair and a sharp twig poking her in the back, Autumn glanced between her three new friends. All were huddled together, peeking out toward the doors of the cabin. Shauna tried to sneak a glance into the side window, but the shade was drawn.  
  
They all seemed to hold their breath until Brianna heaved a sigh of relief. Autumn felt it was okay to speak now, but still, she whispered. “Why are we hiding in a bush?”  
  
“See that cabin?” Brianna wagged a finger.  
  
The one less than three feet away from her? Sure, she did. Autumn nodded.  
  
“That’s where our mortal enemies live,” Brianna explained.  
  
“Mortal enemies?”  
  
Okay, so maybe there would be a death match this summer...  
  
“Yeah, Vivian and Claire. They’ve been tormenting us for years, trying to outdo us at EV-ER-Y-THING. And now they have a new girl, just like we have you. Dawn something or other. Starts with an M. I don’t know what she’s like, but they’ll surely be trying to poison her mind against us. And that means you, too.”  
Brianna shot Autumn what seemed like an overly dramatic look. Poison the new girl’s mind? How bad could they be?  
  
Shauna and Astrid then launched into stories of jeering remarks and prank wars: overturned canoes, wrecked cabins, buckets of water over doors, toothpaste and shaving cream on faces, and honey on toes…  
  
 _Wow_. What had she gotten herself into? Thought Autumn. She’d expected this summer to be nice and chill. She’d learn some skills, make some new friends, and maybe...just maybe grow a little closer to Mom because of it all.  
  
“I have a feeling this year’s gonna be different, though. You seem smart, Everdeen. And I can tell you don’t take any crap.” The leader of this little group patted Autumn on the back.  
  
Did she not take any crap? Autumn didn’t know. She’d never really had much experience with that, aside from the ribbing she occasionally took from her crotchety yet loving, old great-uncle. But with him, she took everything in stride, either humoring him or smiling at him in such a way that her mom said always melted his frozen heart. Occasionally, she’d engage in some witty repartee, respectfully, of course, and they’d banter back and forth a little. Her uncle always said she knew just what to say to zing him.  
  
When she zoned back in on the group, they were discussing ways of sending a message to the inhabitants of Cabin Binesi, or perhaps even bugging the place.  
“So, you have that kind of technology?” Autumn brought up.  
  
“Well, no,” Astrid said. “Fine, then we’ll just go through their stuff and mess the place up a little.”  
  
“I don’t think that’d be right. It’s an invasion of privacy, and they haven’t even done anything to us,” Autumn reasoned.  
  
“Oh, don’t be so pure, Everdeen! They’ve done plenty to us in the past!” was Astrid’s reply, the other two agreeing wholeheartedly.  
  
 _Pure?_  
  
“We’ll work that outta ya this summer,” Brianna announced, clapping Autumn on the back.

* * *

When they finally arrived at their cabin, Autumn stepped inside and took a look around. It was small but decent. She could live here for 6 weeks, she supposed. Right away, Brianna and Astrid claimed their bunks.  
  
Shauna turned to Autumn, then. “Which one do you want?” she asked of the two remaining.  
  
“It doesn’t matter. You can choose,” she said, smiling.  
  
“How about...I’ll take the top.”  
  
“Okay,” Autumn agreed. “Bottom for me, it is.”  
  
She and Shauna then began unpacking while Brianna and Astrid chatted away on Brianna’s bottom bunk across the room. It didn’t take long for Autumn to unpack her things, for she’d picked up her mother’s minimalist ways.

* * *

Autumn headed to the dining hall with her cabin mates for lunch around noon. She followed their lead and approached the cafeteria-style line where two middle-aged women were serving the campers. They had a choice of soup, sub, Caesar salad, macaroni and cheese, or there was a vegan option. Autumn selected the mac n’ cheese and took it to the table Shauna, Brianna, and Astrid had gone to. It was open cafeteria-style seating, but she was told that the cabin mates usually sat together.  
  
After a short announcement from Miss Trinket (more like a speech)‒did she have something to say about everything?‒the campers began to eat. Autumn picked at her food, and she couldn’t help glancing over every few seconds at the table where her lookalike sat.  
  
“What are you looking at?” Astrid asked. “Did you see a cute boy?”  
  
Autumn’s cheeks flushed, and she shook her head rapidly. “No. Nothing like that,” she said. Although, she wondered if she should ask about the girl with the braid who looked just like her. Maybe the others would know something about her.  
  
She tried to eat, but she just couldn’t focus, so she told her group she’d be back and headed over to her lookalike’s table. But in the very short period of time she’d torn her eyes away, the girl had vanished! Had she been a hallucination all along?! Maybe she’d seen a ghost. No, wait. That made no sense. Not a ghost who looked exactly like her. But maybe the very near future-her, here to warn her about something…  
  
Autumn turned sharply, hoping to get a look around the room to see if she could locate her lookalike again when her back collided with a girl’s front. She spun around, mumbling sorry to the person she’d slammed into. And then she saw who it was. Sure enough, she’d come face-to-face with the girl who looked so much like her it was frightening. And up close, the resemblance was even more uncanny.  
  
Yes, they looked exactly the same. Same body type, same shade of brown hair, same blue eyes, same dimpled chin, and same...face. _Same face?_ How was that possible? Nevertheless, it couldn’t be denied. And Autumn felt as though she was staring at her doppelganger. She’d heard they existed, but she’d never seen it before with her own two eyes, that is, until now. It was unbelievable, uncanny, and at least a half-dozen other adjectives she suddenly couldn’t recall right now.  
  
 _So freaky…_  
  
Stupidly, Autumn reached out with both hands, feeling for some magician’s trick, a clear lucite box separating them, a hidden mirror right in front of her face, even though she knew she’d find nothing. Deep down, she knew that what she was seeing was real. She just didn’t know how.

This girl, whom she’d never seen before in her life, was her duplicate in practically every way, the only differences between them being that this girl’s hair was longer and pulled back in a braid and her skin tone was slightly different, still an olive pigmentation but darker, as if she got more sun than her.

“What are you doing?” the girl asked blankly.

How did she seem so unfazed by all this? Autumn had to wonder.

But she probably did look insane, so she stopped patting the air and slowly dropped her hands.

“Um, just...checking something.” Sure, that made her sound less insane.

A corner of the girl’s lips twitched ever so slightly. “You’re strange.”

Autumn ignored the blunt insult and decided to get right to the matter at hand. “Excuse me, but have you noticed...we look alike?”

“Do we?” The girl shrugged, and it seemed like that little smirk of hers couldn’t decide whether to come out or not.

Was it possible she really hadn’t noticed? Or was she messing with her? She had to have noticed, otherwise, she wouldn’t have been staring at her earlier.

“You really don’t see it?” Autumn persisted.

“Hmm…” The girl tapped her chin. “Oh, wait! Yeah, yeah, now I see it. Turn your head. Let me see your profile.”

Autumn did as she was asked and began turning her head from side to side on command.

“Oh. I lost it. No...” She shook her head. “No, I’m sorry. I don’t see the resemblance, but you do have an interesting face...”

“Really?”

“Yeah. If someone made a Halloween mask of it, they’d make a killing.” The insult had been pathetic, yet the table behind them burst into uproarious laughter.

“Good one, Dawn!” one of the girls at her table called out.

Autumn frowned, her eyes fixed on the girl in front of her whose eyes had never left hers, either, even to acknowledge her friend’s praise of her rudeness. “So, you’re Dawn.”

“Dawn Mellark, yeah. And you are?”

“Autumn Everdeen.”

Smugly, Dawn nodded, saying nothing further.

Autumn could feel her heart racing from adrenaline, but she kept her cool. She was upset, sure, and she was truly wondering who this abominable thug masquerading as a girl thought she was, but she couldn’t let Dawn Mellark see that she’d gotten to her. That was Rule Number One in the Dealing With Petty Bullies Handbook: Don’t let them see they’ve affected you. She clenched her fists once at her sides and released them.

“You know, Dawn,” she spoke calmly, “when you insult me like that you’re insulting yourself, too, because even if you try to deny it, we do look just alike.”

Dawn didn’t falter a bit. “I don’t look like you,” she said, not missing a beat. And with that, she whipped her head around, her braid lightly thwapping against her back.

Autumn wanted very badly to go after her and yank her braid so hard, but she didn’t do that, of course. She was a pacifist. Instead, she watched her carry her tray off, dump the remainder of her food, and head toward the exit. A couple of her friends got up, then, and took off after her, each placing a hand on her shoulder as they caught up to her at the door of the cafeteria.

 _Well, that was a little extreme, wasn’t it?_ thought Autumn.

Dazedly, Autumn walked back to her table, still wondering what the heck just happened.

How could she say they didn’t look alike, anyway? It was as plain as the similar slightly wide-bridged, pert-tipped nose on their faces. And even if she didn’t agree, she didn’t have to react that way! Autumn sighed. _What a jerk._

Autumn somehow made it back to her table, although it seemed like quite the journey given her confusion over the recent event.

“You okay?” Shauna asked, touching her arm as Autumn slumped into her spot. Autumn smiled a little and nodded.

“What was that all about?” Astrid asked, confused.

“Yeah, that was rough. She’s kind of a bitch, isn’t she?”

“Who?” Autumn muttered, still feeling hazy.

“Duh, the girl who looks _exactly_ like you,” Brianna punctuated.

“So you noticed, too?”

“That she’s a bitch?” Brianna asked wryly.

“No, that she looks just like me.”

“Of course,” Shauna chimed in.

“Everyone did,” Astrid added.

“Who wouldn’t?” Brianna followed up with. “We’ve sort of been talking about it since this morning. But we didn’t want to mention it in case…”

“In case what?”

“Well, in case, maybe...you knew her or something.” Shauna shrugged.

“I don’t know her at all,” Autumn assured.

“That’s so weird,” Brianna remarked. “So, she’s just some lookalike?”

“Guess so.” Autumn one-arm shrugged.

“Wow. That’s...that’s…” Astrid was as lost for words as she was earlier.

“Yeah, it is” was all Autumn said.

“The nerve of her,” Brianna hissed, “coming here with your face!”

Autumn smirked. She assumed Brianna was trying to lighten the mood or be humorous or something. “She can’t help what her face looks like. It’s not her fault it’s the same as mine.”

“Well, what are you gonna do about it?”

Autumn snorted. “Well, considering I’m neither a plastic surgeon nor a serial killer, what can I do?”

Shauna burst into laughter. “Oh, Autumn, you’re hilarious! A little dark,” she managed to say between laughs, “but hilarious.”

Autumn shrugged.

“So, what do you make of it?” Brianna asked.

“Yeah, there’s gotta be some explanation. You sure you two aren’t related? Cousins maybe?”

 _Cousins. Huh. That was a theory. Identical cousins_. Well, outside of a really old TV show, it didn’t make much sense. She supposed it made about as much sense as them looking exactly alike and being unrelated, though.

“No, we’re not related. Not that I know of. And I think I’d know.”

And she did know. Autumn was fully aware of all her cousins. Although she had no contact with them, Uncle Haymitch had kept her somewhat informed about the other side of the family. The feeding of occasional bits of info was a special secret between him and her. Autumn sometimes felt a little guilty for keeping it from Mom, but she just couldn’t help wondering about the family she wasn’t allowed to know.

Supposedly, her dad had two older brothers, and each of them had three sons (what were the odds of that?), who would all be in their late teens/early twenties by now. So, there was no way this girl could be her cousin because she didn’t have any female cousins. And as for her mom’s side, there was only Aunt Prim, who had no children.

The topic started a discussion about family and parents.

“So, what are your parents like, Autumn?” Astrid asked.

“Oh, well, I just have my mom.”

“Oh, sorry. Did your dad die?”

“Nope. Split up with Mom when I was just a baby. I know some things about him, though. He owns some bakeries out in California. And he’s young, relatively. He and Mom were only 19 when she got pregnant with me.”

“Wow. Your parents are way younger than mine. No wonder they got divorced.”

Autumn thinned her lips. She decided to just move past that comment.

“So, you don’t see your dad?” Shauna asked, looking sympathetic.

“No, but I know what he looks like. At least what he did back then. He has blond, wavy-curly hair, and blue eyes like me. And he’s stocky, not fat but muscular.”

Autumn thought about the picture she’d snuck a glance at on her mom’s phone. It was a photo of her parents from years ago; in the picture, her father had his arms around her mother. He was so much larger than her in frame; her mother appeared so tiny in his arms, but she looked really happy to be. It warmed Autumn’s heart to visualize it, but it also made her a little sad.

It’d been an accident that she’d seen it; her mom had been showing her another photo altogether when that one popped up. It had been buried deep within her mom’s gallery of photos but not deleted. Actually, she thought she’d seen the symbol indicating that it had been archived, and also stored on the Cloud. Apparently, it was special to Mom…

“Is your dad like a bodybuilder?” Astrid asked, breaking Autumn’s reverie.

“No.” Autumn laughed. “He’s not built quite like that. Just solid, strong. I guess from lugging sacks of flour around all day.” She didn’t really know if that was actually what her dad did all day, probably not anymore now that he was in charge, but that’s what she’d pictured when she heard he was a baker. That and kneading bread dough.

“Oh, hot,” commented Astrid while Shauna nodded along.

“Yeah, he sounds like a fox,” chimed in Brianna. “Too bad you don’t have contact. If he was picking you up, we could get a good look at him.”

 _Yeah_ , thought Autumn. Of course, her friends getting the chance to ogle him was not the reason why she wished she had contact with her dad.

She laughed it off. “ _Ugh_ , please. Please do not talk about my dad that way. He’s not a fox or hot or anything like that. He’s just...my dad. He’s sweet.”

“But he left,” Astrid pointed out.

“Yeah, no matter what the reason, young or not, he still abandoned you,” Brianna added.

“It’s not like that. You don’t know the situation; it-it was...complicated.” Autumn paused. Truth be told, she didn’t know what the situation was or really why her dad couldn’t see her. She didn’t know the full terms of the custody agreement, and all Haymitch had ever said was that her dad would definitely want to see her if he could.

“Custody battles always are,” Astrid remarked as if she knew all about it.

Autumn absently nodded.

“If your dad isn’t allowed to see you at all, there must be some reason. Maybe he was a dirtbag. Abusive or an alcoholic or drug addict or something."

Autumn couldn’t believe any of that. While she conceded there must be a reason, and she assumed her parents’ split must have been really bad if Mom wouldn’t let him see her at all, she just couldn’t believe anything bad about her dad. Not after his gift and his letter last year.

Everything she’d needed to hear from her dad had been in that letter, the one she’d read about a thousand times and kept safely tucked away underneath the mechanism of her music box.

“My dad is a good man,” she told her new friends. “I know he is. He even sent me this, look.” And she pulled out the necklace tucked into her shirt. “Would a dirtbag send his daughter this?"

Brianna gave a low whistle. “Wow. Is that a...a pearl?”

“Yeah.”

“I never knew they came in different colors,” Shauna said, fascinated.

“Yeah, they do. This is a black pearl, I think.”

“Is it real?” Astrid asked.

“I’m pretty sure it is, yeah.” She ran her thumb along the pearl once before tucking it back in. Even if it wasn’t real, she’d love it just the same.

“Wow, that was thoughtful. Is your dad rich or something?”

“He has...some money.” She decided to play off just how wealthy her father really was. Not that them knowing could harm her or him in any way, but she barely knew these girls.

“Maybe he was trying to buy your affection,” Astrid suggested. “Sometimes parents do that." 

“No, I don’t think so. I think he just wanted me to know he loved me.” That was in the letter, too. Said in a really beautiful way.

“If he wants to buy your affection he should send you a car for your 16th,” Brianna interjected.

Autumn shook her head. “No, I don’t need that. I don’t need anything from him.”

“That’s right, forget he even exists after what he did to you,” said Astrid. “And freeze him out if he ever comes along trying to have a relationship with you.”

But that wasn’t what Autumn had meant at all. She hadn’t meant to sound bitter. All she meant was that the only thing she needed from her father was him. She had his love, yes, but she didn’t have _him_ ‒his physical presence.

But that was something she’d likely never have. There was just no way she’d get to see him, short of running away from home, and she couldn’t do that to her mom. Maybe when she was older, though, legally old enough, she could travel to California to see him. She’d be extremely nervous, but it would probably be a great moment, right? Weren’t those things always beautiful and meaningful? Well, not always, she supposed. But she believed her moment would be. Because she had an estranged father who actually cared for her. That meant he’d be happy to see her no matter what, right? Even if she showed up unexpectedly on his doorstep one day.

Naturally, Astrid had to ruin the beautiful moment in her head by bringing the conversation back around to her lookalike. And then she got on the subject of love children and how her ‘hot dad’ might have one. Autumn quickly cut that off with a ‘gross’ and a ‘please stop.’ She definitely didn’t want to think of such a thing.

But Astrid had a point, as much as she hated to admit.

Her mom had said that her dad was loyal, and she wanted to believe that. But it was completely possible that her dad had another child by now. He probably had a whole other family. The thought of that made Autumn a little sad for some reason, but it was realistic. Although, he hadn’t mentioned anyone in his letter, only a dog.

Autumn inadvertently fingered her necklace, pondering her dad’s life. Even if Dad had another child with another woman, there was no way he had one the same age as her who looked exactly like her. She knew a little bit about how genetics and things worked.

Then again, the only other option was…

 _Nah_ , she brushed it off in her head. It was too wild to think this girl could be related to her, especially...closely. And that’s not something a parent would keep from their child, was it? No, definitely not. At the very least, Uncle Haymitch would have spilled the beans on this mystery relative who was identical to her on one of his drunken nights.

No, it was just some weird coincidence. She was just a lookalike.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Peeta, why is your daughter being such a brat? Lol. She's not as bad as she seems. Or is she? Decide for yourselves. Next part coming very soon... It's written, just needs some editing and small additions and tweaks.
> 
> Teaser for the Next: Archery, tree climbing, survival skills, telling ghost stories and singing by the campfire. Autumn has a hot minute, and Dawn gives her a nickname. But despite the rivalry forming between them, Autumn isn’t quite convinced Dawn is all bad. Finally, the girls are paired together as Team Everlark in a special challenge.


	3. Just Lookalikes Part II

_Autumn Everdeen_

After lunch, they were all scheduled to head to the archery range‒the dreaded archery range. This was what Autumn had come here for, but she was nervous. Incredibly nervous. Everyone here was probably at least sort of good at archery or at least had more of a true interest in it. Or, they wouldn’t have come. There’d probably be some beginners, but she was likely the only one crazy enough to come who already knew she was horrible at it, and wasn’t likely to get better, the only one who was doing it solely to impress someone… Autumn sighed. Even so, this wasn’t the first challenge she’d faced, and it wouldn’t be the last, so she wouldn’t shy away from it.

The group arrived at the range‒a large field with a row of targets set up. They looked professional, made of foam most likely, but heavy-duty. Autumn had read that there was a flat course with stationary targets as well as a 3D range with three-dimensional animal targets set up at various stations throughout the woods. Today, though, they’d been told they would only be learning and practicing their form shooting at the stationary targets.

After standing around for about fifteen minutes waiting for Counselor Glimmer (yet another weird name), who’d arrived late and hadn’t been at orientation, they got started. Miss Glimmer showed them the proper form and technique and demonstrated for them. Glimmer kind of sucked‒Mom could shoot circles around her‒but supposedly she was only filling in for the actual instructor. Besides, Autumn couldn’t say much about that because Glimmer was better than her, anyway.

After Counselor Glimmer’s demonstration, she had them all line up to take preliminary shots. They started out shooting as a group, in rows, and Autumn was thankful for that. Maybe no one would notice how bad she was that way. When her row’s turn came, Autumn stepped up, doing her best not to tremble. The targets looked kind of far away, probably at least 15 to 20 feet, she surmised. She supposed that was standard, even a little short, but she kind of wished she could move up like Glimmer had been doing with the younger ones under 12. Of course, even if she hit the target, that would be embarrassing to have to shoot from the kiddie range.

Mentally, Autumn went through the checklist of form, trying to do exactly as she’d seen her mother do numerous times and that which had just been taught to her officially. Most in her row had already begun to shoot, and Glimmer was walking behind the row, checking form and occasionally stopping overly eager shooters who needed correction or pacing.

She finally took a shot. Not even close. The arrow landed a good five feet short of the target and to the left. Well, okay, she could correct that. She just needed to adjust where she was aiming and pull back a little further, right? She took several more shots. One sailed directly over the target, and sadly, that was the closest one so far. She lowered her hand and tried again.

Counselor Glimmer was coming by now, and on one hand, she needed help, but on the other, she didn’t want everyone to see that she did. Maybe she could ask to practice more on her own later, after the group finished. Autumn occupied herself with nocking another arrow as Glimmer passed by, ignoring her. Then she took another shot. Well, this time she almost grazed the right side of the bale.

She kept trying, but she didn’t get even one to stick.

Once out of arrows, Autumn dejectedly returned to the end of the line, hoping that was it for the day. And then, Glimmer announced that she’d be observing them all individually.

 _Crap_.

As if that wasn’t enough pressure, Glimmer had a clipboard out and was writing stuff down as each archer took his or her shots. Autumn glanced around, catching sight of Dawn Mellark a few rows ahead of her. She focused in, watching closely when it was Dawn’s turn to step up to the line.

Dawn Mellark was, in a word, amazing. After struggling only with the first arrow‒claiming she wasn’t used to this type of bow, though still hitting just shy of center‒Dawn hit the bullseye in precise, rapid succession, three times in a row. Autumn’s jaw dropped. She was surprised Dawn hadn’t done that splitting the arrow thing she’d seen in movies, she was that precise.

Glimmer moved Dawn back and let her keep going, and she fired off another round of arrows.

Like an accident, Autumn couldn’t look away. Dawn was fierce and graceful and talented, and a tiny bit of jealousy niggled at her. What she wouldn’t give for Dawn’s talent! Wouldn’t Mom just love to have a daughter like Dawn to take to the woods with her? She’d bring her such pride. She was like the daughter Mom never had, and they looked so much alike that Dawn Mellark could easily replace her. Autumn shrugged off such a ridiculous thought. Mom had never once given her reason to think she was disappointed in or ashamed of her, quite the contrary. It was all her own insecurity, she realized.

Dawn finished shooting, and people actually clapped. Autumn joined in, despite her little prior beef with the snarky marksgirl.

When it was her turn, Autumn barely registered her name being called, so caught up had she been in other thoughts. She felt a little nudge on the shoulder and turned to see Shauna encouraging her to step forward. “It’s your turn, Autumn,” said Shauna sweetly. She heard a few kids snicker, but she was focused on Dawn.

Dawn Mellark was standing off to the side with her little group, the two girls from the cafeteria. She had her arms folded tightly and was watching her, her face a cold, emotionless mask. Meanwhile, her two friends were smirking over almost challengingly.

“Come on, Autumn,” exclaimed Brianna.” They’re looking at you like you’re a meal. Get up there and show em’ what ya got!”

Well, Autumn got nothing. Her mom may be a crack shot, but she hadn’t inherited any of that talent from the gene pool.

“Yeah,” chimed in Astrid. And Shauna gave her a pat on the back.

Autumn inhaled, releasing the breath as the three lightly pushed her toward the line. She took the last few steps on her own and retrieved the bow from Glimmer. Standing in place, she nocked the arrow. She tried to channel some of her mom’s energy then and remember those few times she’d watched her shoot. She recalled how Mom had looked like an action figure, beautiful, untouchable, even intimidating. And she did her best to imitate that.

She got into the stance she always saw her mother use and raised the bow. She hooked her fingers around the string and nock and drew back, touching the string just barely to her cheek to anchor it.

“Good form,” Glimmer praised. Autumn smiled faintly and thanked the counselor.

Her form being good was promising, but that didn’t mean the arrow was going to hit its target. Of course, wasn’t form the biggest part of it? So, maybe she had a chance. But then again, what if she messed it up at the last second and snapped her nose right off or something. She was strangely proud of her nose, too. Oh, why were these thoughts suddenly jumping into her head?! She shook them off.

_Here goes nothin’..._

The first shot she missed, quite considerably, though not as badly as earlier. She stared somberly at where her arrow had landed in the grass in front of the target until the sound of laughter around her brought her back to reality. Autumn’s eyes shot immediately to Dawn’s. She wasn’t laughing or smirking but still staring at her with that unreadable expression.

“Nice shot, Everdeen!” called out one of Dawn’s friends.

“Yeah, bet you couldn’t hit the broad side of a barn!” taunted the other. “Maybe we should get you one of those to practice on!”

“Why don’t you shut up, Vivian!” yelled Brianna from behind Autumn.

Glimmer finally stepped in and told the girls to quiet down. Then she turned back to Autumn. “Try again,” the blonde instructor suggested.

“Okay,” Autumn muttered. She pulled out another arrow, readied it, and let it fly. Another miss. But this time, she was much closer, and her aim was dead on.

This time, Dawn Mellark spoke. “You gotta give it more oomph, Everdeen!” Dawn called out.

Was she making fun of her, or was she trying to help? Autumn couldn’t tell. That was the thing about Dawn Mellark; she was hard for Autumn to read. It was a mystery, really, because usually, Autumn was so good at that.

Dawn’s friends started jeering again, that is, until Dawn gave one of them a look while poking the other with her elbow. Was she actually standing up for her? Subtly telling her friends to cut it out? It was strangely reassuring if so.

Autumn nocked another arrow and sent it zinging at the target. It felt good leaving the bow, the speed, the trajectory, even the whooshing sound it made zipping through the air. Yes, she was sure this one was going to hit. It did, although it missed the bullseye.

Again, her eyes flitted over to Dawn’s. She looked...disappointed maybe. Did she think she was pathetic, Autumn wondered. With a sigh, she removed her last arrow and shot. Thunk. It landed in the blue, which Autumn was pretty proud of.

“Good job,” Glimmer said, making note, then taking the bow from her. She motioned for her to rejoin the group.

Well, that was anticlimactic. But at least she’d hit the target. She glanced once more at Dawn Mellark. She was no longer watching her, but was staring straight out ahead, toward the targets, while the friend Brianna had called ‘Vivian’ said something to her. She couldn’t quite hear what, but she imagined it was something snotty about her. Oh well. She hadn’t made a complete fool out of herself, and that was really all she was going for, at least on Day One.

There was only more humiliation to come, though, for Glimmer announced that in a week they’d be having individual scored assessments. The top scorers would even receive prizes. Well, there was no way Autumn was gonna get anything, that is, unless there was some kind of Most Improved award.

Hoping for that and not ready to give up yet, Autumn caught up with Counselor Glimmer afterward to ask if she could practice on her own. Glimmer informed her that she could go to the office and check out a bow during certain times if one was available. She decided she’d inquire about that when she got the chance.

Her cabin mates waited for her to finish speaking with Glimmer then walked back with her. They all seemed so tightly knit, and now she was a part of that; it seemed they’d taken her under their collective wing.

All the way back, the three were griping about the little display at the archery range, about how awful Vivian, Claire, and the new girl, Dawn Mellark, were. Autumn didn’t say much. Truthfully, she thought Vivian and Claire to be much worse than Dawn, but Dawn could be kind of a jerk, too. Although, it had almost seemed like Dawn wanted to see her succeed today, or at least not make an idiot of herself. It was almost like, in her own way, she’d been cheering her on.

So, what was with the rude comment in the cafeteria? And the way she’d stormed out? And the jeering by Dawn’s friends at the archery range?

Was she being bullied? And if so, why her? What had she ever done to get on Dawn Mellark and her friends’ bad side. Why had they singled her out of all people?

Autumn had been told once that bullies usually behave the way they do out of jealousy or to get a rise out of someone. Well, Dawn certainly had nothing to be jealous about. She was the one with all the skill. And when someone is given the gift of skill, shouldn’t they be understanding and not make others feel bad for their lack of it? As for getting a rise out of her, Autumn couldn’t think of a single reason why Dawn would want to do that. Dawn and her friends were just mean, she supposed.

Or…

Dawn had surely been joking about the Halloween mask thing. It was kind of a weird joke, though, especially to say to someone you just met. Maybe she didn’t have many social skills. But no, she seemed to interact fine with her group. Maybe it was peer pressure. Brianna, Astrid, and Shauna hated Vivian and Claire, and probably vice versa, and by association, Dawn was one of the latter, and she was in the former’s group. Still. Or, maybe she’d put Dawn on the spot, embarrassed her in some way by calling out their resemblance. That didn’t make much sense, though.

But why the heck was she justifying her bad behavior?! She decided to stop it right then and there. Whatever the reason, whatever game Dawn Mellark was playing, Autumn refused to be a piece in it.

“I know a way we can get back at them,” Astrid was saying now.

“How?” Autumn asked, for curiosity’s sake.

“Well, the inspection of our cabins is coming up...”

Autumn wasn’t sure she liked where this was headed, not after the pranks she’d heard about from previous years. “Yeah?” she asked skeptically.

“Well, we could, you know, mess up their cabin. Make them look like slobs in addition to the monsters they are.”

The other two seemed to be in complete agreement, saying things like ‘yeah, why not?’ and ‘it’s not like they haven’t done stuff like that to us.’

“I dunno…,” Autumn hedged.

“Autumn, come on!” Astrid whined. “They deserve it after the way they treated you today!”

Autumn considered it. Maybe they did deserve it, but that didn’t mean they should do it. Somehow, she’d gotten off on the wrong foot with Dawn Mellark. Now, it may or may not be too late for Vivian, Claire, Brianna, Astrid, and Shauna to make amends, but she wasn’t ready to give up on Dawn. She’d prefer to try and remedy the situation before going to war with her. At the very least, she didn’t want to sink to that level.

* * *

An hour later, Autumn and her cabin mates were all outside the snack shack enjoying frozen treats. Shauna had an orange push-pop; Astrid, a grape popsicle, and Brianna, a strawberry cone. Autumn, well, she was licking at a chocolate cone, of course. Surprisingly, the sugar had mellowed them all out. For the time being, at least. There was still this raw feeling in Autumn’s gut, and she didn’t know if it was because of Dawn and her cabin mates’ taunting or the strange likeness between them she couldn’t explain, or forget, no matter how hard she tried.

They were all just chilling and chatting, that is, until their nemeses came along…

Autumn’s gaze shifted to the group‒Vivian, Claire, and Dawn. Her eyes flickered between her group and theirs. Dawn was eating some kind of fancy gelato thing, and she didn’t even know where she’d gotten it. She hadn’t recalled that being on the menu. As much as she tried not to get sucked in, she found herself casting subtle glares in the direction of the ‘enemies.’

“Look at them,” Astrid sneered. “They think they’re so hot.”

“I think the new ringleader may be even worse than the others,” remarked Shauna.

“Yeah, she’s so smug,” Brianna inserted.

Autumn assumed they were referring to Dawn Mellark; she did appear to be the leader of the group, despite being new. But, while it was true the three of them seemed to have confidence to spare, Dawn was the least annoying about it. She wasn’t exactly amiable, but she used more discretion than the others. Well, aside from that initial comment. Dawn also seemed to have a take-charge personality. She had the drive to be a leader, so it didn’t surprise Autumn that the other two seemed to look to her, but it also seemed like Dawn had no interest in that.

She glanced over to see that Dawn was sizing her up, so to speak, giving off something of a ‘What are you looking at?’ vibe. It was a bit unsettling. Like looking into a very irritated mirror, if mirrors could have human emotions.

But Autumn didn’t back down, simply locked onto Dawn’s very similar eyes and stared right back. Dawn responded by sticking her tongue out, just barely, for like two seconds. Autumn broke the stare then, rolling her eyes in the process.

 _How childish!_ Why was Dawn acting about half her age?

***  
The next activity on the agenda was tree climbing with Counselor Mason. _Tree climbing! Seriously?_

Counselor Mason was teaching them how to properly climb a tree as well as how to set up a hunting stand, mainly for the older boys and a few girls who were interested in hunting. As anticipated, Dawn was a natural at tree climbing. Some others were, too. One small girl looked like a bird perched on a branch ready to take flight. And then there were those who struggled, mostly the older, heavier kids because it was harder to pull up their body weight.

When it was Autumn’s turn to try, she stepped up, pretending to be fearless, although she was quite nervous. As expected, she couldn’t climb a tree to save her life. No, not even if murderous cutthroats were down below ready to slice her neck without a thought. One would think she should have no trouble at all, being as small as she was (not as small as the bird girl, but light), but that was certainly not the case, and she struggled more than most.

It took Autumn a good five minutes, nearly, to locate and get hold of a good branch‒Mason even pointed out a couple of possibilities to her, and shockingly, gave her a boost once. But each time she pulled up, she either slipped or couldn’t get any momentum. It happened several times; she even scraped her knee a bit. She tried and tried, with some gruff encouragement from Mason, but it was no use. She just didn’t have the upper body strength.

Finally, Mason let her give up, and head lowered, Autumn shuffled off to stand a little ways apart from the group. Mason suggested she go to the clinic to get some antiseptic and a bandage on her leg, but Autumn wanted to tough it out, so she refused. Mason seemed to respect that; she folded her arms over her chest and smirked at her. “Don’t be a hero, Everdeen,” she said. “Just go get your leg fixed up.”

Autumn complied, and as she turned to walk away, she noticed Dawn Mellark glancing over. Dawn pressed her lips together but didn’t say a word. It felt like she was silently judging her, though, and Autumn couldn’t help wondering what was going on in her head.

***  
After getting her leg patched up, Autumn found the others, who had all taken a break to rest and re-hydrate. It wasn’t long after, though, that Counselor Mason was rounding them up. She announced that she’d been selected to choose the team-building activity for that first day, kind of rolling her eyes at ‘team-building.’ It was supposed to bring the campers together, she explained, and force them to work together toward a common purpose. Mason chose a nerf bow and arrow war. Counselor Mason’s girls would be facing off against Counselor Gloss’s cabins, made up entirely of boys as well as Counselor Cashmere’s cabins. Consequently, Counselor Cashmere was Dawn Mellark’s team leader.

The groups were divvied up, Autumn ending up on the opposing side to Dawn. _Of course_. Autumn sighed. Not that she wanted to be on Dawn’s team, but...she was so dead.

***  
The nerf archery game was intense. It was a bit humorous to Autumn, listening to Gloss and Cashmere get competitive with each other and smack talk while Mason intimidated the both of them, but mainly, it was intense. The boys were merciless, but Dawn was picking them off like ducks on a pond. Autumn thought she even got one of them in the eye. They were actually running away from her, which was pretty funny. It was definitely an awesome display of girl power, and if Dawn wasn’t her nemesis, Autumn probably would have been cheering her on, shouting things like: ‘You go girl!’ and ‘Show em’ who’s boss!’

But, fact of the matter was, they weren’t on such friendly terms. And that quickly became evident when once Dawn finished off the real threats, she set her sights on her.

Crap.

Enemy. Target. That’s what she was to Dawn Mellark. She could practically see the bloodthirsty look in her eye from the distance.

Autumn decided it best to put some distance between them, perhaps even try to climb a tree, but she knew Dawn would be relentless. She might as well be wearing bright orange with a giant bullseye in the middle of her chest and waving around a big, red flag.

Because somehow she knew, Dawn would never stop hunting her…

She was a goner.

Autumn ran as fast as her legs could carry her with Dawn hot on her trail. It felt like a horror movie, where a killer with an axe or a chainsaw is behind her as opposed to a young girl with a nerf bow and arrows. And if she’d learned anything from the select few horror movies she’d seen, mostly through peeking in on them at her uncle’s, she knew she shouldn’t stop to look back.

And so, after the first glance or two, she stopped looking and forged on ahead. But she knew Dawn was there, tracking her like wild game. She ran until her legs throbbed, finally deciding to try and throw her pursuer for a loop, so she ducked into a set of bushes. She could conceal herself here. It would be a nice breather, and frankly, she felt like dropping.

But then again, no. Dawn would surely find her.

Dashing through the shrubbery into a clearing, she saw a large tree before her. It was thick and tall, but there were some low branches she was pretty sure she could reach. It was perfect for climbing. That is if she could climb…

She had to. It was her only chance.

So, she slung her nerf bow and arrow over her shoulder and latched onto the first low branch she could grab. By some miracle, she made it up the tree.

What should she do now? Autumn wondered. Wait for Dawn to find her and gun her down from below? Or try and shoot Dawn from her new vantage point? But that kinda felt like cheating...

It didn’t take long for Dawn to make it there. Down below, she looked all around, circling the tree as if she could smell her blood. Autumn’s heart was pounding inside her chest. _Shh_ , she mentally urged the frantic organ. Clutching her weapon to her chest, she tried to be as still and as quiet as possible, but she felt herself slipping a little, so she clamped her legs tighter against the thick branch. Not moving a muscle, she practically held her breath as Dawn took one more pass around the tree. And then she looked up...

Autumn caught the faintest hint of upturned lips. But it wasn’t menacing or taunting as she’d come to expect from Mellark; it was more...almost...prideful? It seemed as though Dawn was impressed she’d gotten up there, that she was proud of her for finally managing to climb a tree. But, thing was, now she was dead.

She squeezed her eyes shut, thinking ‘Go on. Just do it. Get it over with’ as if this would be some kind of fatal blow rather than a foamy harmless dart. Of course, there were no counselors around to see her get tagged, but Dawn surely knew she’d be honest about it and accept her defeat. And with it, her team’s defeat.

But then Dawn’s expression grew...soft. She stared up at her in wonderment for several seconds with wide, almost innocent blue eyes before casting her glance downward. Just then, she heard someone shouting for Dawn.

“Hey!” Vivian came bounding through the brush, bow in hand. “D’you find her?”

From up above, Autumn studied Dawn. Her rival shifted, hesitating, but she didn’t look up and reveal her hiding spot. And then she shook her head. “No. Guess she gave me the slip.”

What? Was Dawn actually letting her go? She couldn’t believe it.

“What?!” Vivian exclaimed. “I thought you had her!” Dawn shrugged. “What’s she doing this far out, anyway? She’s out of bounds. Ugh,” Vivian groaned. “Figures Everdeen would cheat. She acts like Miss Goodie-Goodie, but she’s just a little sneak!”

“Yeah well,” Dawn said, emotionless. And then she pointed off in some direction‒Autumn didn’t know which, for she hadn’t yet learned how to tell north, south, east, and west without a compass (she knew which direction the sun rose and set, and that was about it), or better yet, her phone’s GPS. “I think she went that way. Let’s go.”

Autumn’s mouth dropped open, and she watched in awe as her arch-nemesis dragged her teammate off. But before she was through the brush, Dawn cast one last glance over her shoulder, and she smiled.

Wow. It was times like these she suspected Dawn Mellark might be human after all, rather than some rabid beast.

* * *

After the game was done, and miraculously, Autumn’s team had won, Autumn followed after Dawn Mellark. “Hey,” she called out just prior to catching up with her.

Dawn spun around.

“Hey…,” Autumn began.

Dawn said nothing, her mouth remaining set in an emotionless expression.

“You...you didn’t shoot me.” Dawn simply shrugged at her. That wasn’t good enough for Autumn. This girl who had insulted her upon introduction and seemed to hate her guts one minute then help her the next needed to explain herself. “Why didn’t you shoot me?” she urged.

Dawn scoffed. “Doesn’t matter. It was just a game. Not like I saved your life.”

Strangely, it kind of felt like she did. But more than that, it was the principle of the matter.

Dawn tried to walk off, but Autumn caught her by the arm. She shot her a look that could at least maim, if not kill, but Autumn stood her ground. “It does matter. I need to know.”

Dawn sighed heavily as if exhausted. “Leave me alone, Everdeen.”

“No. No way,” she persisted. “You had me treed. I was a sitting duck, but you didn’t shoot me. Why?”

Obviously losing patience with her, Dawn huffed. “If you’re so eager to be shot, I’ll shoot you right now,” she threatened.

At that, Autumn nodded her head. It would be preferable to settle this right here and now. She took a couple of steps back and opened her arms wide. “Go ahead.”

Dawn gave a short, brusque laugh and shook her head. “I always knew you were crazy from the start, Everdeen.” With that, she spun around, her braid whipping through the air and settling against her back as she began to walk off.

But Autumn couldn’t let it go.

“What’s your problem with me, Mellark?!” Autumn shouted at Dawn’s back.

Dawn stopped. She turned slowly to look back at her over her shoulder. “I don’t have the problem, Everdeen. You do.”

Dawn was long gone before Autumn even began to try and make sense of what had just happened. This girl was so frustratingly hot and cold. An enigma. And unbelievable. Completely unbelievable!

After that little display, Autumn decided it best to give up on Dawn. She clearly had no interest in being her friend or even showing her basic civility, despite what she’d done for her at the tree. So, she kept the incident to herself and went about her day. She needed to focus on getting through it, after all.

Counselor Foxface was teaching a couple of wilderness survival skills courses, which were mandatory, especially the plants and edibles one. There was also one on knot building, and finally, fire-building.

Miss Delly and a few other counselors were there helping out, and they’d split the campers into small groups for the fire starting class.

The relationship Autumn had with fire seemed to be that of a damp rag. It just didn’t want to catch, not even give her a little spark.

“Come on, come on,” Autumn urged, striking away at the fire rod.

“Don’t tell me you’re bad at this, too.” The voice Autumn dreaded to hear came from behind her. She squeezed her eyes shut and kept at her task.

“Really, what are the odds you wouldn’t be able to do anything we worked on today?” Dawn crouched several feet away, resting her elbows on her knees, and looked over. Autumn ignored her.

So she sucked at shooting and climbing and making fire? So what? She’d done pretty well at tying the knots. And she had gotten up that tree. Of course, Dawn conveniently forgot those things...

“Now, now, let’s be positive,” bubbly counselor, Miss Delly, chimed in. “She’s doing her best.”

Autumn released a small sigh. She was trying her best; she was trying really hard.

 _And Dawn Mellark barely has to try at all_ , thought she, her mouth gnarling into a disgruntled expression.

Why did everything come so naturally to her? It was almost as though she was born in the woods and raised by animals. Maybe she was. Autumn shook her head. That was silly. Although, she couldn’t help thinking Dawn would make the perfect girl scout‒if she was a lot nicer.

“Seriously, you have to be good at something, Everdeen,” Dawn badgered.

Striking the rod sharper, Autumn gritted her teeth. “Who says I’m not? Maybe you just haven’t seen my skills yet,” she retorted.

“Guess not,” Dawn muttered.

Autumn looked down again; she smacked the piece of rock a couple more times before stopping. She turned to Miss Delly. “Can-can I have a...a moment?” she asked, huffing and puffing a little from the exertion.

“Of course,” Miss Delly said.

Autumn sat back, taking a moment to catch her breath. In all the activity, her necklace had popped out of her shirt. Dawn saw it and was suddenly encroaching on her personal space, which was surprising because Dawn seemed like the hands-off, give-me-my-space kind of girl.

Dawn took hold of the small, dark pearl, pinching it between her fingers. “Woow, impressive. What’s this?”

Why did everything sound sarcastic coming from Dawn Mellark?

Autumn shoved Dawn’s hand away and cradled the pearl to her chest. “None of your business,” she snipped, quickly tucking it back in.

“Why? Is it from your boyfriend or something?” Dawn taunted, accentuating the b-word.

Autumn sniffed derisively. Well, she didn’t have a boyfriend, but Dawn didn’t need to know that. In fact, she’d come to realize the less Dawn Mellark knew the better. “No,” she said, holding her head high, “someone far more important.”

Well, shoot. She’d already broken her rule, giving Dawn more information than she needed. Now she knew the pearl was important. Not that she thought Dawn was evil enough to try and take it. She was an annoying smart-aleck, not a thief. But then again, she didn’t really know her at all, did she?

Dawn seemed to lose interest in the pearl conversation; instead, she urged her to try starting a fire again.

“Why do you care if I succeed?” Autumn snipped.

“I don’t,” Dawn retorted. “I just want to see if you can.”

They stared hard at one another a moment, then determined, Autumn decided to try again. Dawn settled in on a nearby log to watch, propping her chin up with her hands.

This only spurred Autumn on.

“You’re not getting the right angle,” Dawn commented. “You want a 45-degree angle.”

Autumn puffed out her cheeks. Did she have to know everything about this stuff? But, she took her advice and changed the angle.

Frantically, she began scraping at the fire rod until she saw a spark. It caught the tinder but also Autumn’s shirt in the process. She yelped and fell back, and she began crawling away from the fire pit.

It was Dawn, not Miss Delly (or anyone else) who put her out.

Dawn, who had quickly sprung into action, finished smothering the flame that’d caught her shirt with a handful of dirt and an old cloth. “Whoa, whoa, you okay, there?”

Blue eyes met blue.

“Um, uh, yeah,” Autumn breathed. “...Thank you.”

“No problem,” Dawn spoke in a more sincere voice than Autumn had ever heard her. And then she actually extended her hand to her. Autumn accepted it.

“Sorry about your shirt,” said Dawn, helping her to her feet.

Autumn shook her head. “Don’t be.” She let go of Dawn’s hand and brushed herself off as best she could. “This time you really did save me.”

“Was no big deal.” Dawn’s eyes flitted away.

It was. It really was. But Autumn suspected Dawn didn’t exactly take compliments well, so she didn’t push the matter. Instead, she looked over at Miss Delly, who appeared shaken by the incident. She finally came to her senses and rushed over to check to see if Autumn was hurt.

“Oh my goodness!” she exclaimed. “Are you alright, Autumn?”

Autumn nodded. “Yes, Miss Delly.”

“Whew!” Delly exhaled. “Thank goodness! Well, I think that’s enough for today! Maybe you’d better go to the clinic...”

“A second trip to the Clinic in one day, Everdeen?” Dawn remarked, crossing her arms over her chest. “This whole lack of skill thing is really becoming a problem. You’re a danger to yourself now. At this rate, you’re gonna wind up dead or at least hobbled before the day is out.”

Ugh, she’d flipped on her again! Why was she being such a smart aleck all of a sudden? She was so frustrating! Autumn fought the urge to smack her.

“Huh,” she uttered calmly. “And here I thought the Mr. Hyde side of you had gone to sleep for the day, Mellark.”

Dawn smirked.

“And no, I don’t need to go to the Clinic,” she directed her words at Dawn. Then she turned back to Miss Delly. “I’m fine, really. I’m just gonna go...change my shirt.”

Delly nodded, and Autumn gave Dawn one last look before heading off toward her cabin.

“Hey, Girl on Fire!” Dawn called out after she’d taken a few paces; she stiffened up. “Make sure this one’s not flammable!”

At that, Autumn’s head snapped back to find Dawn grinning mischievously.

What was her deal? One minute she was being nice and saving her, and the next she was a complete jerk again.

“Don’t wanna have to put you out again!” Dawn persisted. “Hey, maybe you’ll return the favor for me if I ever spontaneously combust!”

Autumn growled low in her throat. She really wanted to hate Dawn Mellark, but despite the way she acted sometimes, it was hard to. Not when she owed her as she did…

* * *

About a half an hour later, Autumn had changed her shirt, grabbed a sweatshirt, and was heading to the welcome bonfire that was being set up for that evening. She’d just seen the sign pointing the way when she heard someone call her name. Well, her last name.

“Hey, Everdeen!”

She looked and saw Dawn Mellark, several yards away, leaning against a tree. She swallowed a groan. Why couldn’t she just stop harassing her?

Stupidly, she pointed to herself. “Yeah? You talking to me?”

“Anyone else named Everdeen at this camp?” Again, Dawn brought out that barely-there smirk of hers.

“I don’t know. Didn’t see the roster,” Autumn retorted, trying to sound as snotty as possible. “What do you want?”

Dawn jogged over to her, and they stood facing one another for a moment. “Are you…,” Dawn shuffled her feet, “okay?”

Huh?

“You were on fire earlier,” Dawn reminded as if something like that needed a reminder.

The corner of Autumn’s lips twitched a little. “You mean to say that I was really, really awesome at something,” Autumn deadpanned. “Oh wait, no,” she raised her blue eyes skyward, “you’re referring to when I was actually, literally on fire.”

Dawn made a noise that was part-snort, part-scoff. “Dummy.” She shook her head amusedly. “Yeah, that’s what I meant.”

Smiling faintly, Autumn nodded. “Yeah, I’m okay. Thanks.”

“Good. Well, so…” Dawn paused, then cleared her throat. “Yeah, so, listen up, because I’m only gonna say this once. I was only joking when I made all those comments.”

Autumn pressed her lips together. _Nice jokes_.

“Don’t you know it’s not funny to make jokes at other people’s expenses?”

Dawn shrugged. “I guess I’ve never really been very good at making friends…”

_Friends? That was her trying to make friends?_

Rather than say something nice or encourage her in some way as she probably should have, a sarcastic “Shocking” came flying out of Autumn’s mouth. She placed her hand over her mouth as soon as she said it as if that could turn back time, but it was too late. The damage was already done.

Dawn was scowling at her now.

“Uh, hey, sorry. That came out wrong.” Man, she was usually so good with words. Somehow Dawn Mellark seemed to bring out the worst in her. “Look, I think we got off on the wrong foot. Why don’t we start over?” She stuck her hand out. “I’m Autumn Everdeen. And you are?”

Dawn lowered her eyes to Autumn’s hand, appraising it with that scowl as if it was something dirty. She then glanced up at Autumn, looked her straight in the eyes, and said, “No.” And with that, she turned on her heel and walked away.

Autumn heaved a sigh as she watched Dawn go. Seemed all she was doing all day was watching her walk away…

But seriously, what was her problem? Was Dawn really that sensitive? Her skin seemed so thick...

Okay, so maybe this time it was her fault, not Dawn’s. Yeah, she’d screwed up. Dawn had been trying to be nice, to make amends in her own way, and she’d shot her down. Well, great. Now she had a feeling stuff was really going to hit the fan.

What would be the ramifications? Autumn wondered. Even more hatred or total indifference?

The answer: total indifference. It became clear pretty quickly that Dawn intended to completely ignore her. And somehow, that was much worse. They say the opposite of love isn’t hate, it’s indifference, and not that she wanted Dawn Mellark to love her‒that was ridiculous‒but she at least wanted her to act like she was alive…

And now, she might as well be dead to her.

* * *

Darkness had fallen, and the campfire roared to life in the middle of the woods. Chattering away, the campers and counselors all took their seats on logs around it. Autumn sat between Shauna and Astrid, and directly across from Dawn. Dawn had gotten there ahead of her and was seated with her group of friends. 

It was a fun idea, having a bonfire, and Autumn knew she should be having more fun than she was. But her mind was preoccupied.

Everyone was talking, making smores, and they were all participating in icebreaker activities, which the counselors, mainly Miss Delly, had created. Icebreaker. Yeah, when it came to her and Dawn Mellark, they could use all the icebreaking they could get. She could probably get out one of those giant pickaxes, and it wouldn’t do a lick of good after her stupid comment.

One word. One stupid word and she’d managed to shatter all the progress they’d made, ruining Dawn’s attempt at making an apology and being friends.

She felt a little bit awful, but ‘Que sera, sera.’

Besides, if Dawn wasn’t so dang stubborn, they could move past this.

Sullenly, Autumn picked at the marshmallow goo around the edges of her smore. She sighed and bit into it, chomping away at the chocolatey, marshmallowy, graham crackery goodness while looking around the campfire. She needed to buck up, forget about Dawn Mellark.

Because Dawn had so obviously forgotten about her. She still wouldn’t look at her and hadn’t since that moment on the way to the bonfire.

Man, Dawn Mellark could really hold a grudge! And oddly, this deep freeze she was doing was worse than her sarcasm. She shouldn’t let it get to her, Autumn knew this, but she just really didn’t like this misunderstanding hanging in the air between them. And she was unused to being disliked. That is, aside from the ones her family said were jealous of her.

Around the bonfire, the campers and counselors sang songs and told stories. When asked if anyone wanted to sing, Autumn decided to volunteer. She decided to sing “Can’t Helping Falling In Love.” Maybe it was weird of her to choose a classic (in other words, old) love song to sing around the campfire, but it was the one that popped into her head. After all, she’d heard her mom playing this song on more than one occasion. She seemed quite fond of it, and it, likewise, grew on Autumn.

Autumn loved the original, but right now, she was calling to mind a female cover of the song that fit well with her voice‒a light lyric soprano with a smoky-almost raspy timbre, able to span two, maybe three octaves on a good day. She had the voice for this version, but it was a classic song, invoking strong emotions. It was about love. Mom always said songs came out better when sung with passion and especially when there was true emotion behind them. Harnessing the passion and more importantly, the emotion to sing a love song would be a real trick, considering she’d never been in love. She tried to call to mind the love she had for family…

She cleared her throat and began.

As she sang, Autumn glanced around the campfire, observing the faces of the other campers, illuminated by the soft orange glow of the campfire. They’d all stopped talking to listen, and even Dawn Mellark seemed attuned. Autumn couldn’t quite see her face, but something seemed to flash in those similarly colored eyes of hers, something akin to recognition, or perhaps wonderment.

After the song, the group switched to ghost stories. Autumn also wanted to join in, but she didn’t really know any paranormal stories, save for one. It wasn’t necessarily a ghost story (and was more song than story), but it definitely had the creepy element going for it. The song, which was something of an ominous ballad, was sung to her by her mother, and to her by her father. Definitely not a lullaby. But her mother had waited until she was a little older to tell her the story behind it, and she’d found it morbidly fascinating.

None of the others, not even Dawn, had hated on her voice when she sang before, and so Autumn decided to go for it.

 _Are you, are you_ …? she began singing, everyone honing in on her.  
 _Coming to the tree_  
 _They strung up a man_  
 _They say who murdered three_  
 _Strange things did happen here_  
 _No stranger would it be_  
 _If we met at midnight_  
 _In the hanging tree…_

_Are you, are you_   
_Coming to the tree_   
_Where a dead man called out_   
_For his love to flee_   
_Strange things did happen here_   
_No stranger would it be_   
_If we met at midnight_   
_In the hanging tree_   
  
_Are you, are you_   
_Coming to the tree_   
_Where I told you to run_   
_So we'd both be free_   
_Strange things did happen here_   
_No stranger would it be_   
_If we met at midnight_   
_In the hanging tree_   
  
_Are you, are you_   
_Coming to the tree_   
_Wear a necklace of rope_   
_Side by side with me_   
_Strange things did happen here_   
_No stranger would it be_   
_If we met at midnight_   
_In the hanging tree_   
  
_Are you, are you_   
_Coming to the tree_   
_Where I told you to run_   
_So we'd both be free…_

After finishing the song, which Miss Delly thought was a bit inappropriate, Autumn told the story behind it. All but Miss Delly seemed intrigued. 

“She was later hung, too, for the role she played in the rebellion," Autumn went on. "It was very sad. But at least she was reunited with her lover. Or, was she...? They say she wanders around searching for him, and each night she goes to that tree hoping he’ll be waiting there for her...and I think...I think…," Autumn lowered her voice to an ominous tone, "I think it was this very tree…” She pointed to the big, gnarled tree that’s branches practically surrounded them.

“Liar,” spoke up Dawn. “You’re making it up.”

“I’m not. My mom told me,” Autumn said with finality. Surprisingly, Dawn let it go, though she didn’t seem at all convinced.

* * *

The next day, it was Miss Delly’s choice of activities, and she wanted to have a bake-off.

 _Oh geez_ , thought Autumn. Another thing she was bad at. When were they finally going to do something she was good at, like arts and crafts? She’d kill at that. _Oh well_. Autumn supposed she was at least learning new skills as she’d wanted to.

The campers had been randomly grouped into pairs, and a list had been posted. Autumn approached the list, thinking she didn’t really care who her partner was, save for one person. Internally, she pleaded over and over to not get this person. She sucked in a breath and scanned the list until she found her name.

And…

What were the odds?

Was this some sick joke?

Who had she been paired with? Well, none other than Dawn Mellark.

She read it over three times, even carefully connecting the names with her finger to make sure she hadn’t made a mistake. No such luck. Every time, it came up the same: Team 5: _Everdeen and Mellark_.

What made it a hundred times worse was that Miss Delly thought it would be cute or something to combine all the partners’ names like some weird celebrity couple mishmash. And there it was...next to their last names, their pairing name in parentheses‒ **Team Everlark**.

Autumn sighed, deciding to make the best of it. Maybe Dawn wouldn’t say much. Maybe, since she was on her team, she’d be reasonably nice and keep her snotty comments to a minimum, even after inevitably finding out that she sucked at baking, too. She wondered if Dawn could bake. She’d been good at everything else they’d done so far‒it seemed a little unfair that one person could be so supremely gifted.

Well, wouldn’t that be something, if Dawn Mellark could shoot a person between the eyes at 50 yards and also bake a cake for them? She supposed she'd soon find out. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author Note: Special thanks to eiramrelyat for sharing her knowledge of the Ojibwe (Chippewa) language with me for the cabin names. I, personally, have ancestry rooted in the Cherokee, though I, unfortunately, don’t know much about this heritage.
> 
> Dandelion: dodoshaabo - jiibik  
> Large bird: Binesi. 
> 
> Information about camps and archery came from Camp Hi Ho's website (JLaw's parents' camp), archery360.com, and of course, my own imagination. 
> 
> Teaser for the Next: Dawn Mellark’s POV. Dawn continues to encounter Autumn Everdeen, usually with troublesome results, but occasionally, it’s not so bad, and she learns to appreciate Autumn’s skills and kind personality. But when a mishap with Autumn’s treasured pearl necklace occurs and Autumn disappears, Dawn takes the blame and sets out to find her. Will Autumn hate her forever, or will Counselor Mason forcing them into isolation thaw the ice between them? Perhaps they’ll discover something more about each other that they never knew…
> 
> Disclaimer: I do not own the lyrics to The Hanging Tree, nor Suzanne Collins’ The Hunger Games series and characters

**Author's Note:**

> Kind of an extended prologue/set-up, but I hope you enjoyed! Please let me know your thoughts or give kudos if you liked it. Thanks!


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